Chapter Eighteen
Margo
“No. For the last time, I will not change the channel to the Home Improvement network,” I drawled, pouring three shots of whiskey for the customer at the end of the bar.
Richard, a local and frequent visitor of this watering hole, was seated at the bar in front of me.
He was a retired fisherman, his skin tan and weathered from the countless days and nights out on the water.
He had an abundance of smile lines at the corners of his eyes, laugh lines around his mouth.
So much evidence of a life well lived, and yet, he was here, night after night, because he hated being alone.
“Come on, Margo. Dannie let me watch it last night,” he argued, his voice rough and weak, a result of yelling at his crew for decades on the sea.
Dannie was the third bartender Joey had in rotation. She usually worked the lunch shift but had been slowly trying to shift to nights because the money was better.
“If you want to watch that shit, go to Margie’s and have yourself a nice slice of pie. I’m sure she’ll turn it on for you,” I said, shooting him a wink.
Richard had a little crush on Margie, the owner of the best restaurant in town. “Marg doesn’t serve beer.”
“Then go home and watch it,” I told him, shoving the shots down the bar. “There’s a huge game coming on in five minutes, and I’m not in the mood to have Joey barking up my ass for pissing off the entire town.”
“The entire town isn’t in this damn bar,” he grumbled. “Just half. Besides, I’ll stick up for you.”
My eyes lifted, finding Hayes still sitting at the corner table, legs stretched out, arms crossed over his chest, watching me like a hawk. Every few minutes or so, I’d feel his gaze leave me to scan the bar and take note of who came in before his heat returned to me once more.
“Or maybe your boyfriend back there will,” Richard continued, not giving a damn whether I ignored him. The man just liked to yap.
“He isn’t my boyfriend.”
The old man downed the rest of his beer before letting out a bark of laughter. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. I know the look on his face all too well.”
I scoffed, yanking the towel off my shoulder to wipe down the bar. “Do you want another beer or not?” I asked, brushing off his words.
“Well, yeah. What the hell do you think I’m doing here?” He chuckled as a buddy of his took the barstool beside him. I gave them both their drinks before grabbing the empty bottles of liquor and heading to the back. The kitchen smelled like fried fish, heart problems, and bad decisions.
I dropped the bottles into the recycle bin and rolled my neck, feeling a knot at the base of it.
“Hey, Margo,” a waitress called, bumping her hip with mine as she left the kitchen, two plates in tow.
I looked at Gary the dishwasher, wincing. He laughed at me. “You still don’t remember her name, do you?”
“No!” I hissed.
The kitchen door swung open again, and there she was, beaming at me like I’d just saved her firstborn from a fiery death. “How was your time off?”
I smiled and nodded. “Uh, great,” I lied.
“Yeah? That’s awesome. Did you get good grades on your mid-terms?”
I stared at her in complete shock that not only did she remember my name, but that I mentioned my midterms to her. When the hell had I done that?
She was so pretty. Slightly shorter than me, medium-length golden blond hair, blue eyes, and a heart shaped face.
Rachel, another waitress, appeared beside us then, her black braids pulled out of her face into a high ponytail, her golden eyes filled with annoyance.
“I swear to God, if Joey cuts my hours again, I’m going to quit. ”
That pulled me out of my stupor, my head snapping toward her. “What the hell do you mean again?”
Rachel was Joey’s OG waitress. She had started working here just before Joey’s father died and had kept this bar afloat while Joey was off burning through his money.
She’d helped him get back on track, she’d stuck beside him when he was behind on taxes, and she’d designed the remodel last year.
Rachel was the yin to Joey’s yang. The Buoy wouldn’t exist without her.
“I don’t know! He won’t talk to me about it,” she said, shaking her head. Her rich dark skin was glowing with fury underneath the fluorescent lights. “Every time I come near him, he makes an excuse. He’s avoiding me.”
“He has been acting strange lately,” our coworker said.
“Amelia, did he say anything to you during your six-month review?”
Amelia. That was her name.
“No, but he’s been…twitchy lately.”
Rachel and I shared a look before we each grabbed an arm, pulling her into the walk-in fridge. Amelia turned to face us, wide-eyed. “It’s freezing in here!”
“Yes, it’s called a fridge. Don’t play dumb with me. Talk,” Rachel demanded.
Rachel reminded me of Sarah in a lot of ways. Straight forward, brilliant, could run the world if she really wanted to.
Hayes would come looking for me in about three minutes if I didn’t reappear behind the bar, and the last thing I needed right now was for Rachel to ask questions.
Lying to my best friends was a piece of cake when I could avoid them, but if Rachel got a whiff of what was going on, she’d have Sarah and Cardinal here within twenty minutes.
“Come on, Amelia. Tell us what you’ve seen,” I urged, practically begging. “I have to get back out to the bar before the fucking Snub Crew wrecks it again.”
The Snub Crew were notorious party animals and the best fisherman. Every day since I’d been working here, they’d had the largest catches. Of course, this gave them a reason to get wild every night. I seriously didn’t know when those men had the time to sleep.
“Okay, well, he’s been really fucking weird the last week, but more so since yesterday when a man in a suit came in.”
“Man in a suit?” I repeated, tilting my head to the side. I looked at Rachel. “Did Joey pay his taxes?”
“No, I paid his damn taxes for him like I do every fucking year. There’s no way in hell a tax man would come sniffing around here. I got that shit locked down tight.”
“No, it wasn’t a tax man. Maybe a lawyer. I was doing restocks when he came in just before opening. He was scary-looking though.”
“What did he look like?” I pressed, the hairs on the back of my neck rising.
“He had long black hair, past his shoulders, half pulled back, a nose ring, and was covered in tattoos. Oh! He had a moth tattoo on the top of his hand.” She raised hers, circling the area between her thumb and pointer finger. “Here.”
For the second time this week, my stomach landed on the floor with a loud splat.
Gordon.
I pushed by Rachel, my ears beginning to ring as I yanked open the steel door.
I ran through the kitchen as they called my name behind me.
Just as I got to the bar door, it swung open and Hayes was there.
He clocked me instantly, and I crashed into him, his arms caging me in as I began to tremble.
My body was in full panic mode, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
The last time I’d seen Gordon, I was covered in blood and had barely escaped with my life.
Now, he had been to my safe haven, the new chapter of my life.
“Margo, talk to me,” Hayes ordered sharply. I burrowed into his chest, trying to focus on the steady beat of his heart. His hands cupped my face, firm but gentle, and tipped my head back. His eyes were on fire. “Baby, talk to me. What’s going on?”
“G-Gordon,” I rasped. “He was h-here.”
He didn’t break our gaze. “When?”
“Yesterday…h-he came in to talk to Joey.”
I was against his chest again, one of his strong arms around my shoulders. I closed my eyes, inhaling his cologne, trying to ground myself.
Hayes was here.
Hayes would protect me.
Gordon wasn’t going to touch me.
Hayes would never let that happen.
He promised.
Hayes was perfect.
Hayes always kept his promises.
“Is she okay?” Rachel asked from behind me.
“I need to speak with Joey,” Hayes said. There was darkness in his voice, a cold warning.
“He should be in his office,” Amelia rasped.
“Margo is finished for the night,” he declared. “Would one of you cash her out?”
Rachel moved closer to me, her vanilla scent hitting me as she put her hand on my shoulder. I turned my head, looking at her through my tears. She looked at me for a moment and then up to Hayes. “Yeah, I can bring her tips up after closing.”
“Thank you,” I croaked.
“Of course,” she replied, her brows pinched in concern.
I lifted my head and plastered on the only smile I could manage. “I’ll be okay. There’s just a lot going on.”
“Tell Joey I’ll be back down to speak with him in a few minutes.”
“Are you a cop or something?” Amelia asked.
“Or something,” Hayes deadpanned, pulling me away from him and steering me to the back door.
Five minutes later, I was curled up on the couch, staring at the blank TV screen while Hayes made a call.
“Hey. Yeah, I need you here,” he said, pacing back and forth in front of the window.
Slowly, I turned my head, my eyes dropping to the pistol at his back, poking out of the waistband of his jeans.
“No, Gordon was here yesterday. He wanted to speak with Margo’s boss.” Hayes paused. “Yes, attempted contact.” Another pause and he looked at me, eyes glimmering with fury. “We need a second restraining order in the works. Get Humbly on it.”
I returned to staring at the blank TV screen, my hands picking at the edge of my blueberry blanket, a Christmas gift from Cardinal.
She had a strawberry one at her place and Sarah had a raspberry one.
Tears stung my eyes, and I dipped my chin, hiding from the world.
The first tear fell from my cheek, landing on the willow tree tattoo on my forearm.
Then another and another. The dam had been broken, the levees destroyed.
“Grayson is on his way,” Superman announced.
“I can’t believe I reacted that way,” I murmured, my tears shining on my inked skin.